Poisoned Birthday
by paintmepink
Summary: Missing scene from HBP. Set after Ron's accident.


There were several advantages to being a prefect.

There was the bathroom, of course, which Hermione was infinitely thankful for after having spent four years sharing with all the girls in Gryffindor tower. There were the responsibilities that she was handed, which she, too, enjoyed, as they gave made her feel important and trusted. There were other things, too, most of which were quite lovely.

The best advantage, though, or perhaps the most useful, was the fact that, as a prefect, she was given no curfew. Technically, she could wander the halls at all hours of the night should she have the desire. And no one could say a word to her.

The school seemed to be completely deserted as she made her way down staircases and around corners. In fact, she didn't pass a single person, or even ghost, before she got to the hospital wing. She'd always felt a bit creeped out about being in the halls after-hours, and it wasn't a feeling that had subsided with time, especially when she was out alone. So she was thankful when she reached the infirmary, despite the fact that it was just as dark as the rest of the school.

She pushed open the double doors quietly, especially careful not to draw Madam Pomfrey's attention to her presence. She had permission as a prefect to wander the hallways, yes, but there weren't any special provisions stating that she was allowed to break hospital visiting hours. A few candles were lit, so it wasn't _as _dark as she'd originally thought, but her eyes took several seconds to adjust to the light.

She glanced around at the beds. All of them were empty except for the one on the far end. She was thankful that there weren't any other patients, and she tiptoed quickly across the stone floor to the bed of the wing's lone occupant.

Ron Weasley was asleep, lying on his back with his face to the ceiling. It didn't seem as if he'd moved a muscle since Madam Pomfrey had run them off earlier that night. She wondered if he'd woken up at all, hoped that he had, but figured he probably hadn't. She didn't really know why she was even there. It wasn't as if she expected him to wake up in the middle of the night and need her or anything. In fact, she wasn't really there for his benefit at all, and she knew it. She was there for her own selfish reasons. She was there because _she _needed to know that he was alright.

It had taken her what seemed like ages to fall asleep, and she finally had, it hadn't been peaceful to say the least. She'd tossed and turned for half the night until she'd finally woken up from a nightmare in which she was force-feeding Ron poison and mockingly calling him "_Won-Won." _It was after saving herself from this dream that she knew she had to make sure he was okay.

It wasn't like she actually thought he was dead or anything. No, she was quite positive that had something horrible like that had happened, someone would have waken her up and told her. Although... she wasn't actually that sure. After all, no one had even bothered to tell Lavender about Ron at all, and she was his girlfriend. Hermione forced down the automatic gag reflex she tended to have at this thought. Truthfully, she _had _felt a little bad for Lavender when she'd first realized no one had told her. But she'd gotten over it quickly enough.

Lavender had first been informed after Harry, Ginny, and Hermione had returned to the common room last night. Surprisingly few people knew of the attack, as the news had somehow managed to spread relatively slow for Hogwarts standards. Hermione had gone straight upstairs, not keen on talking to anyone really. She'd climbed into her bed and was trying to sleep when the door to her dormitory flew open half an hour later.

Lavender ran into the room, followed closely by Parvati. Both of them looked horrified, and Lavender immediately towered over Hermione's bed and demanded to know why she hadn't bothered to inform anyone else that Ron had been poisoned.

Hermione had wished very much at that moment that she was asleep, but wishing, as she well knew, accomplished nothing. She sat up slowly and looked at Lavender, who now, in addition to looking horrified, also looked furious.

"Why did _you _find out before I did?"

Hermione didn't honestly know the answer to that question, so she gave the closest explanation that she could. "Professor McGonagall told me."

"Why would she tell you and not me?"

"I don't know," Hermione muttered, wishing that Lavender would just leave her alone.

"Is he okay?" Hermione was surprised to see that Lavender actually looked concerned, and she was also surprised to hear the tone in her voice.

She gave a little nod. "Madam Pomfrey says he'll be fine. He's still asleep."

"Harry saved him?" Hermione nodded, and Lavender sniffed a little, her voice turning quite haughty again. "I guess that made you angry, huh? That Harry knew what to do you and you didn't? Yeah, I heard he was beating you in Potions this year."

Hermione bit down hard on her tongue to keep herself from hexing her roommate. "It would have been hard for me to know what to do, seeing as how I was nowhere near him when it happened," she said bitingly.

"Course you weren't," Lavender said hatefully. "You haven't spoken to him in _months. _Which is why I really don't see why the teachers saw fit to tell _you _that he was hurt and forgot about me. Did you even know today was his birthday?"

"Of course I did," Hermione snapped, quickly losing all patience. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been friends for six years."

"Friends?" Lavender let out an evil sort of laugh and looked at Parvati incredulously, as though the two of them were in on some great secret that Hermione wasn't privy to her. Parvati, for what it was worth, didn't laugh, but she didn't say anything to stop Lavender's tirade, either. "Do you think I'm stupid, Hermione? Just because I don't go round with my nose stuck in a book twenty-four hours a day like _you _doesn't mean I'm an idiot!"

"Really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows daringly, no longer in any sort of mood to be polite. "You do a really good job of pretending then."

Lavender looked completely scandalized by this remark, and Hermione sort of hated herself a little for feeling so completely pleased by the reaction. She wondered when she'd turned into such a mean person. Lavender, though, didn't give her much time to consider this. In fact, by the time she was finished, Hermione no longer felt even an ounce of self-disgust.

"You are the worst kind of person, Hermione," Lavender said ruefully. "You are petty and you are a hypocrite and you are a liar. If you're going to go after a girl's boyfriend at least have the guts to do it openly!"

Hermione stared at her, determined not to show any reaction that might incriminate her or give Lavender the upper-hand in any way. "I'm not _going after your boyfriend, _Lavender. But I suppose you must be that suspicious for a reason, huh? What tipped you off to the fact that Ron isn't that into you? The fact that he hides whenever he sees you? Or was it maybe the way he visibly cringes every time he hears your voice?"

Hermione had touched a nerve, and she knew it immediately. Lavender's face wasn't able to hide her reaction fast enough, and Hermione again felt immense pleasure at this. It wasn't long, though, before Lavender was right back in the fight. "Do you know what he thinks of _you? _He told me you're just a bossy swot who thinks she knows _everything! _And you know what? He's right. But you're not _that _smart, Hermione, because if you were, you'd be able to realize what he thinks and you wouldn't keep hanging onto some stupid fantasy that maybe one day he's going to fancy you because he's _not!"_

"Let's go to bed." Parvati spoke up for the first time, looking thoroughly worried at the argument. She actually looked close to tears, though Hermione couldn't fathom an even remotely plausible reason for that.

Ignoring Parvati's suggestion, Hermione glared at Lavender. "And you are _delusional _if you think he actually fancies you!" she retorted loudly. "He's clearly been trying to get rid of you for months, but seeing as how you are hell-bent on being enough of a whore to hang onto him, it's been a bit difficult."

For a second, she was positive that Lavender was going to hit her. She didn't, though. She just took a deep breath and pulled herself to the fullest height she could manage. She seemed to think she was being the bigger person because her final remark came in an unmistakably superior sort of voice. "I know you're jealous of me, Hermione. But it's fine, I'm used to it. You've been jealous of me since we were eleven years old, so it's nothing new. But just know this. He's never wanted you, and he never will. He doesn't even _like _you."

She and Parvati had gone off to bed after that, and Hermione had been forced to listen to Lavender gripe about her for another hour as Parvati quietly listened and occasionally offered some sort of muttered reply. Hermione, in turn, had set a silencing charm around her bed so that neither of her roommates could hear her crying.

After falling into a fitful sleep and waking up to that horrid nightmare, she'd almost resolved herself to tears again. She wasn't even very positive _why _she was crying. Yes, she was worried about Ron, but Lavender's claims had hit her harder than she should have allowed them to. _Was _she jealous of Lavender? Lavender had always been beautiful, even when they were children. She'd always been popular, and people had always liked her. No one ever went around snickering behind her back or doing cruel impressions of her. She'd never been subjected to the name-calling and ridicule that Hermione knew all too well and had known practically her entire life, well before she even started at Hogwarts. And now Lavender was dating Ron. Hermione knew that she shouldn't be bitter about that; after all, Ron was quite in his own right to date whomever he pleased. He could go snog the Giant Squid for all she cared. But still. She wasn't going to lie and say that she enjoyed the way her stomach seemed to lurch every time she saw him trying to eat Lavender's face.

It had been on that revelation that she'd thrown back her covers and quietly changed into some real clothes. She didn't know what she actually expected to accomplish, but there was a part of her that just knew she had to go see him. She'd thought originally of sneaking into the boys' dorm and forcing Harry to go with her, but she figured he was probably asleep. She didn't really want to be caught sneaking in there anyway. So she went alone. And that was how she happened to find herself standing over the hospital's single current patient.

Ron always seemed so unlike himself when he was sleeping. Not that she was in the habit of watching him sleep or anything, but she'd seen him doze off plenty of times over the years. He always looked so peaceful and calm, nothing like the roaring and raucous idiot she knew he could turn into. Sighing a little, she leaned down to adjust the bedcovers around him. It was barely March after all, and the school was known to get more than a little drafty.

To her surprise, though, he chose that moment to move for what might have been the first time all night. He shifted around slightly and seemed to sink further under the blankets she was fixing. He looked like a little kid or something, and Hermione smiled softly.

She was just tucking the last corner in under his shoulder when his eyes flew open.

She jumped and gasped, not expecting him to wake up. He, too, looked shocked out of his mind, and he stared at her wide-eyed.

"Hermione?"

Falling straight back into her wits, she clapped a hand tightly over his mouth and jerked her head towards the door for any sign of approaching footsteps. "Shh!" she hissed, turning back to look at him and slowly removing her hand. "You're going to get me caught."

He looked totally out of it and very, very confused. He imitated her voice level, though, and poised his next question in a whisper. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

She realized then that he had no idea what had happened. More importantly, though, she realized that he was _awake. _Without thinking, she threw both of her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she possibly could without strangling him. Tears had sprung to her eyes immediately, and she felt a little like a third year girl who had just about come to the end of her sanity and finally broken down in the arms of a friend while professing hysterical apologies at the prospect that her cat may have eaten his pet rat. The difference, though, was that Ron didn't seem completely terrified to find her sobbing. He did, however, seem very confused. 

"What happened?"

"Oh, Ron," she sobbed, trying to pull it together long enough to get the story out. After all, she figured that he probably had a right to know what was going on. "Ron," she said again, finally letting go of his neck and standing back, "somebody _poisoned _you!"

He stared at her, obviously not comprehending what she was saying. She watched as the words literally sank into his head, and then jumped when he loudly exclaimed, "_What!"_

Within a second, Hermione had slapped her hand back over his mouth. "Please don't get me in trouble!" she whispered desperately.

She could see in his eyes that he was wondering about her priorities. She was worried about being caught in the hospital wings while he was, oh, being poisoned... Reading his mind, she mumbled a quiet, "Sorry," as she withdrew her hand.

"Now back to the poisoning part? Please?" He looked at her expectantly, and she nodded.

"Well," she bit down on her lip for a second, trying to organize the story in her head, "they actually probably weren't trying to poison _you. _It was Professor Slughorn's bottle. Unless _he _was trying to poison you, but I doubt it. So maybe somebody's trying to poison Slughorn. Or maybe not. He said he was going to give the bottle to Dumbledore, actually, so maybe he's trying to poison him. Or maybe not. Maybe somebody else _gave_ Slughorn the bottle, yeah, that's probably it. I mean, why would he be poisoning people?" She said all of this in one rambled breath and watched Ron's face as he took it all in; once again, it was as though she could see the words sinking in.

"So... someone's trying to off Dumbledore, and I got in the way?" he summarized.

She nodded. "Yeah, probably. And Harry saved you, stuffed a bezoar in your mouth." She glanced away for maybe half a second. "You almost died."

"What's a be…" Ron's voice trailed off as he answered his own question. "Ohhh, that stone thing he gave Slughorn in class?" Hermione nodded, and Ron suddenly seemed quite pleased. "The Half-Blood Prince saved my life."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The Half-Blood Prince did not invent the bloody bezoar," she said irritably. If Ron was shocked by her language, he didn't say anything.

"Well, he at least knows how to use one, and it's a good thing."

"Just because he's the first Potions instructor Harry's ever listened to doesn't mean he's, or _she's,_ some sort of genius," she replied tightly. "That actually says more about Harry than it does about anything else."

"Hey, he saved my life."

"Yeah, yours and everyone else's in the world," she said testily, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "I'm pretty sure he stopped keeping tabs awhile ago."

Ron seemed amused, but he didn't mention it. "Well, it's a lucky thing Harry learned about the bezoar, that's all I'm saying."

"He didn't need the Half-Blood Prince to teach him that. Snape told him about it in our first Potions class ever. And I knew about it even _before _then."

"Yeah, but you know everything," Ron said dismissively. "I can't believe I almost died..."

Hermione offered a very weak smile. "Happy birthday?"

"And it's my birthday…" He seemed very overwhelmed.

"Actually, it's over," she said, glancing at her watch. "I have your present, but it's upstairs. I can bring it down later."

"You got me something?" he seemed quite taken aback by this. "I sort of figured that was out of the question, seeing as how you haven't spoken to me since sometime before Christmas…"

She looked down at the floor, her cheeks heating slightly. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, surprising even herself by actually meaning it. Ron, though, shook his head.

"I started it."

"Why do we always fight?" She looked back up and found him looking quite uncomfortable. He sort of half-shrugged.

"Something to do, I guess," he mumbled."

"It's not fun."

"But it's what we do, isn't it? That's what we've always done."

She cut in with a question. "Did you tell Lavender that I was a swotty know-it-all?" She couldn't remember the exact quote, so she paraphrased; he'd get the gist.

Apparently he did, too, because he immediately looked at the wall opposite her, his whole face turning crimson. "Er..." Finally he shook his head and answered weakly, "No…"

"Stop lying."

He sighed and looked back to her. "Okay, fine. Maybe I _might_ have said _something _along those lines, but I don't think it was exactly that, the night of Slughorn's Christmas party."

She wanted to be more offended than she was, but she couldn't quite muster up the energy. Besides, she had a feeling that the date of the statement was actually the most important part. She didn't like remembering that night much, either. All she could manage as a response was a soft, "Oh."

"You're not going out with McLaggen, are you?" He was studying her intently, and she wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Ew, no! He tried to choke me with his tongue."

She immediately wanted to put the words right back into her mouth. Ron looked sickened and furious at the same time, and she was instantly horrified at herself for saying that out loud. They sat in complete silence for several awkward moments until finally Ron spoke.

"Did Lavender tell you I said that?"

Hermione thought back to the conversation she'd had with his girlfriend only hours before. She could still see Lavender's outraged face saying that Hermione was jealous of her. "She had quite a bit to say to me. She's not exactly my biggest fan at the moment. To say the least."

"What else did she say?"

Hermione shrugged. "Stupid stuff. Doesn't matter. I learned to ignore her a long time ago." She hoped it was the truth.

"I didn't mean anything by it. Really. I just-"

Hermione shrugged again and cut him off. "It's okay. It's not the first time I've been called a swot, not the first time I've been called a know-it-all."

"I'm sorry," he said flatly.

"It's _fine," _she repeated. "Like I said, not the first time I've been called a know-it-all. It's not the first time _you've _called me a know-it-all."

"Yeah... Not by a long shot actually." He grinned at her, that stupid dimpled grin that almost never failed to make her smile, too. She knew in that moment that things were okay, that _they _were okay.

"It doesn't mean I'm encouraging you to continue, though," she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

He laughed and shook his head. He seemed to be feeling quite alright, and she was extremely glad. She couldn't really remember being as frightened as she was last night in a long time.

"If I tell you something, you won't tell anyone, right?" He had turned a little more serious, and she wondered what was up. She shook her head in answer to his question, and he gave a little nod before swallowing and sighing. "I really don't know what to do about Lavender."

"What about her?"

Ron had that all uncomfortable look again, and he shifted around in his bed nervously. "I don't..." It was if he couldn't quite get the words out. "I really can't stand her."

Hermione snorted and resisted the urge to gloat. "Well, at least we have something in common."

"What did she _say _to you?"

There was no way she was about to go into exactly _what _Lavender Brown had said earlier that evening, so she shook her head dismissively. "Nothing. What do you mean you can't stand her?"

He screwed his face up like he was really trying to figure out the words or something. "I mean... She's okay. But she's so _annoying."_

"Try sharing a room with her for six years. Sorry, I don't have a lot of sympathy for you," she said briskly.

Ron, in true Ron form, seemed not to hear her and continued on with his own drama. "She's driving me crazy, and I don't know what to do. But I mean, you're a girl... What should I do?"

Hermione didn't know whether to be pleased by the news that he didn't really like Lavender or seriously ticked off that he had the nerve to ask for her opinion about the situation. In the end, she decided on a mixture of the two. "Well, as much as I agree with Lavender being annoying, I am _not _going to help you. You got yourself into that mess, so have fun getting out of it."

She'd gotten incredibly short with him within minutes of finally making up with him. She was almost shocked that she could get that way so quickly. Ron, for his part, looked a little surprised, too. "You won't even help me at all?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If the situation were reversed, would _you _help _me?"_

"Yeah," he said, clearly offended. "I'd tell you to drop whatever smarmy git was driving you mad!"

Hermione snorted, but she couldn't help the smirk that settled on her face. "Fine. Drop her, okay?"

Ron rolled his eyes but smiled a little anyway. "Thanks for the help."

She shrugged. "No problem." She looked back at her watch once more and saw that she only had a few minutes before people would start waking up. "Hey, I've got to go." He looked a little disappointed but nodded. "I'll come back after breakfast, okay? With Harry. And Ginny."

He nodded again. "Yeah, okay."

She looked at him, unsure of what to do next. He, too, seemed a little uneasy. "Well," she said, "I'll see you later then." She started to turn, but he stopped her.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For coming down here, I mean." He offered her a little smile. "And for the advice..."

She grinned. "See you." She bent down and hugged him again. He hugged her back this time, and she realized how comfortable it was. When she stood back up, he lifted his hand in a small, almost shy wave, and she smiled again before hurrying out of the hospital wing as quietly as she could.

When she got back to her dormitory, she was pleased to see Lavender Brown's head lying in a pool of her own drool.

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